


Red Dust and Respect

by nimble



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Clothing, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24462847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimble/pseuds/nimble
Summary: They always shower together after a mission.
Relationships: Original Male Jedi Master/Original Male Jedi Padawan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7
Collections: Original Characters & Original Works Flash Exchange May 2020





	Red Dust and Respect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aurae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurae/gifts).



I draw my master's dark brown over robe off of his shoulders. It's thick with red desert dust, but not unsalvageable. When I drop it on the ground in my haste to get us both in the shower, my master frowns at me. 

Right. I pick it up and fold it carefully, the way he taught me when I came into his tutelage at the age of nineteen, after my former master had retired peacefully. I had loved my old master like a son would love his father, but never come to feel the same for this new Jedi master, maybe because I hadn't met him when I was young and impressionable. Or maybe because I've spent so much of my time trying to relearn all the things I thought I already knew. 

The Fern silk of my master's outer roves won't wrinkle or be ruined by being dumped on the floor, and he won't be putting it back on before it's laundered, but that's not the point. 

The point is treating it with respect. We'll never know the names of the herds people who wrangled the silk out of the giant Fendian worms, the weavers and dye masters who decided its shade and thread-count, or even the name of the tailor who stitched together the wide, flowing sleeves and deep hood to the body. These people are nameless to us. But they existed, and they did work, and I should not dismiss that simply because we're tired from our long walk through the parched Tas landscape. 

So I fold the robe, shoulder to shoulder, sleeve to sleeve, then fold the sleeves over, too. I fold the hood down, nice and neat. Then the robe has to be folded end-over-end, exactly three times, tucking the hood and the sleeves into the middle of the bulk of the robe. 

My arms and hands are newly covered in red desert dust. The robe is folded. Now I need to help my master with his tunic. I put the rove down and reach for my master again. 


End file.
